The Boy in Silver Lining
by NicoDiAngeloLover7
Summary: Instead of Harry ignored by Gryffindors as Slytherins congratulated yffindors took action,displaying dislike of losing so many points in one stead of Slytherins holding ideals of being evil,shifts to his house.Will it bring to light because Voldemort was in Slytherin that all of them aren't evil and dark wizards and that there's more dark tenancies than being a snake
1. Is This the Beginning?

AN: I apologize this for being a bit short, but its just the first chapter which I plan on the chapters to be longer. Hope you like it and R&R. As this is just the start.

I own nothing but the plot as everything else goes to their deserving creators.

~NicoDiAngeloLover7

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Harry was in shock as numbness ran through his body. None of Ron's encouragement gave the eleven year old any hope, if anything it created more dread. He knew that Gryffindor House would never forgive him. The cold treatment gave Harry enough proof to justify the assumption from his own teammates on the Quidditch team. How they came to the conclusion that Harry was the perpetrator was beyond comprehension for the three first years. But as always in Hogwarts, rumors start to fly and soon everybody in the school knows. Harry didn't start to worry until minor spells were cast at him through the corridors became curses, then the Boy-Who-Lived really started to worry. Harry never bothered to listen to the rumors from all the houses behind the reasoning for loss of the one-hundred and fifty points in one night, one sounding more ridiculous than the next. Though Harry caught parts of a Hufflepuff telling his mates that he had been caught practicing Dark Magic, while Ravenclaws discussed that the young Potter had a secret alliance with Slytherin that McGonagall found out about. Why anyone would lose points over a friendship with another house was ridiculous at the very thought. Naturally not only did the Gryffindors hate the potter Heir, but the houses of eagles and badgers carried the same emotions. Ironic that it is the House of Serpents that were civil to the eleven year old. If you don't count the young Malfoy and his two goons. You'd almost think the Slytherins felt pity for Harry's tribulations by three-fourths of the Hogwarts population. In a way they did because of one simple rule that was kept close. Protect one another, especially our fellow first-years.

The young Gryffindor had lost count how many times he'd been targeted by his own house. Where his two friends were left alone whose protests fell on deaf ears. All but two individuals in their third year, which did not include prefects. Two thirteen year-old boys with vibrant-red hair that were twins became the only Gryffindor supporters. The twins aided Harry, but only in Quidditch practice from being forced off his Nimbus; due to the fact they're two years older and were never seen in the corridors. Most days Harry would feel confused about his surroundings upon waking in an abandoned classroom. Not only were the days in school with Dudley repeating, but most of the days he couldn't remember. Harry never had to worry about his own classmates as they only ignored his presence. The older students in Gryffindor were more daring as they were the reason why Harry feared being in the corridors. The young Potter couldn't go to a teacher and report it only to be announced as a liar, Professor McGonagall proved that. A teacher that was known to be protective of her Lions had been the biggest let down and the assumption grew that every professor would react the same. As the scene with the Transfiguration teacher replayed in his mind.

"I'll catch up with you guys in the Great Hall," Harry whispered to Ron and Hermione as the rose from their seats. Minerva soon noticed her classroom wasn't as empty as she thought. Yes, Mr. Potter?"

Harry grew nervous as he bit his bottom lip, all his life teachers had never believed him. Maybe here at Hogwarts was different. "Professor McGonagall, these past few weeks I've been attacked by my own house." Harry's voice had started out shy and grew confident as Minerva's eyes narrowed. "I've been attacked and cursed almost everyday and I've lost count of how many times I've been sent to the Hospital Wing."

Minerva's nostrils were flaring at the accusation towards her house. "That's a very serious accusation, Mr. Potter. Gryffindor would never attack one of their fellow students and I can't believe you would lie about your own house. I would never thought I would agree with Severus that you would lie just to get attention. Twenty points from Gryffindor, it should be more but I'm not going to punish my house for your actions."

It was these words that Harry lost all respect for the woman in front of him. He lost all hope that he would be protected as his eyes grew sharp. His voice was gone as he remained in shock, like he expected the harsh words from the Potions Master... not his Head of House. Harry couldn't imagine what lied in store for when the Gryffindors noticed more rubies missing from the hour glass. Almost running from the room and McGonagall herself as Harry searched for no destination. Even if the first year was paying attention he would have never seen the red bolt of light from a stunning spell aimed at the back of his head. Instantly collapsing to the floor in a tiny heap as the two fifth-year Gryffindors stop at his frozen form. His friend silently stowed his wand back into his robes as a harsh kick struck the young boy's side as a Muggle assault.

The Gryffindors left without a sound not noticing the young, olive-skinned Slytherin watching the scene unfold. He held an unreadable expression as he walked towards the unconscious Gryffindor. His dark eyes were hard as he hesitated to touch the boy as if a Hufflepuff was lurking around. With nobody in sight did the Slytherin boy pull Harry's limp arm around his shoulders as he crouched down to the floor. Harry's head lolled to the side as the Slytherin let the Gryffindor's boy weight press against his side. It was like the boy's weight was light as feathers as the first year Slytherin walked slowly to the Hospital Wing. There was the discovery that the young Potter had two cracked ribs before Madam Pomfrey eased a few gulps of Skele-Grow down his throat. The young Slytherin never said his name as he gazed intently at the Boy-Who-Lived before leaving without a swish of his black cloak with a lining of green.

No words were spoken when Harry returned to the Common Room after Ron and Hermione brought food from the Great Hall like it was routine. To the displeasure of Madam Pomfrey did she give permission to release the young Potter back to classes. Like all previous visits to Pomfrey's ward did Harry leave her with more questions than answers. Harry could see Hermione wanted to ask, yet was shushed by a look from Ron. The raven-haired Gryffindor didn't want to listen to Hermione's nagging about informing a teacher. There was nothing to tell as the facts only showed an eleven year-old suddenly appearing in the Hospital Wing with his sides radiating a dull ache. Someone had helped the Gryffindor where others would have left him unconscious in the corridor on the first floor; a journey that is five floors apart with moving staircases.

Hermione and Ron attempted to distract Harry from his daily worries. Yet Harry couldn't concentrate about the worries of the Sorcerer's Stone. For once the young Gryffindor felt like a replica of Hermione about his classes, but for all the wrong reasons. The topic of Quidditch quickly became a dark subject for the Boy-Who-Lived where Ron was concerned. Flying on a broom was becoming a burden instead of a joy for the youngest seeker. Harry had already experienced almost falling off his Nimbus, something he never wanted to feel again. No matter how many times Fred and George blocked the Gryffindors' attacks, they can't protect the seeker forever. What other reason would initiate Harry's decision to resign on his first year for the team? Harry didn't bother to inform his friends of the choice to quit as Seeker in an effort to postpone their protests; contrary to belief it was the twins' initial idea for Harry to quit. Least Harry could avoid Hermione's words at the reminder that McGonagall gave Harry the opportunity to join the team and this was how he repaid the professor.

The day the young Gryffindor went to the second floor for Charms was the realization of the curses getting worse. Initially thinking the worst of revenge was over did Harry slowly let down his guard. The young Potter had a sense of dread wash over him as an older student tripped him and would have fallen face first if two red-heads had not appeared on each side.

"Careful there, Master Potter," Fred Weasley was on Harry's left while his twin was on the right.

"Wouldn't want to mess up your scar," George Weasley said as he grinned.

"Someone might not recognize you," the twins chanted in unison before vanishing into the crowded corridor. Not a second later was Harry shoved to the ground and caught a glimpse of a wand drawn with the flourish of a black cloak with a blood red on the trimmings. Harry began to feel his skin prickle before pushing the instinctual urge to flee to his personal sanctuary as he entered the classroom.


	2. Ally or Enemy?

**_AN: This should have been longer, but that may not happen for a few chapters. Which does annoy me a little, yet neccessary for now. But I hope you enjoy the chapter. R &R._**

 ** _I own nothing but the plot of this fanfiction as the masterpiece is credited to its creators. All written for entertainment and not for any money._**

 ** _~NicoDiAngeloLover7_**

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Letting out a gasp as Harry grasped his quill and chanced a glimpse at his right hand. Almost grimacing away at the sight, the young Potter had burns forming on his writing hand. It was like a scorching fire was getting closer as the pain intensified. The Gryffindor dropped his quill as if it was a muggle bomb about to self-destruct. The tiny noise drew the attention of Professor Flitwick to the eleven-year old. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Potter?" Went the professor's squeaky voice as he stood still on the tower of books.

"No, sir." Was Harry's weak response. There was something wrong with the quill, it had been tampered with as he was unharmed in History of Magic. Hermione began to notice the raven-haired boy beside her starting to wince and at once saw the burns. Her brown years widened dramatically as the hour before did her best friend have unblemished skin.

"Harry, you need to report this," the bushy-haired girl hissed.

"And tell who!? McGonagall has already labelled me as a liar," Harry retorted. Hermione almost flinched at Harry's harsh tone which an apology quickly followed. Harry was tired of his situation and his aggravation showed with the little support he held. Professor Flitwick gave the Boy-Who-Lived a lingering careful glance before resuming the lesson. Harry didn't try to touch the quill again as the burns had formed along his finger tips and the web between his thumb and forefinger. Ron wasn't paying attention to the argument due to the fact he was fast asleep. Hermione wanted to add another word but a look from her best friend had her holding her tongue. Professor Flitwick took a quick look at the two Gryffindors and saw hints of a burn on their savior's hand; noticing the way he gingerly picked up his spare quill did their profesor conclude that his eldest Slytherins were the culprits of the incident. Seeing the burn made the shock realistic and almost toppled the tiny professor off his perch.

The shock transferred to the injured Gryffindor upon Flitwick's request for him to stay behind after class. The conversation with the Charms professor brought Harry's hopes down further; referred to the Hospital Wing to get a salve for the burns. Unknown to the young Potter did his professor have the perception Slytherin was behind the injustice. Confronting Severus Snape about wrong-doings of his house was like arguing with a brick wall. Harry would have ran to his next class and skip the trip to the infirmary had blisters not formed on his fingers. It was by luck that the young Gryffindor didn't run into his own house, considered arguable that he spotted one or two Slytherins. Never once was the Gryffindor stopped in his destination. No questions were asked by Madam Pomfrey and once the salve hit Harry's hand, all the pain ebbed away as the blisters disappeared."I really must ask Severus for more Essence of Murtlap," Madam Pomfrey muttered. For once the Mediwitch didn't insist on Harry staying overnight for observation.

* * *

Transfiguration was worse than Charms concerning the quill burns. Harry would receive no sympathy from Professor McGonagall where Flitwick would be a better alternative. The change of class did not stop Harry from earning a new burn. In depth with Professor McGonagall's lesson and so pushed away the momentary pain. Thinking the burns with the quill were over, had only just began. With one hand gently rest on his book did the Gryffindor's hand start to burn like a roaring fire. The young Potter jerked his hand back to cradle it in his lap. If the hand was left any longer on his book, there would be evidence of third-degree burns scattered across his palm up to his wrist. Harry had to stop the moan of pain when moving his hand, last thing he needed was to lose more points. Giving the House of Gryffindor more reason to kick the Boy-Who-Lived down into the dirt. Harry knew his handwriting would be worse off come after dinner, due to personal experience at first-hand with a stove.

Not once did McGonagall acknowledge that the young Gryffindor existed. Harry didn't know if this was worse than McGonagall's cold stare. The big surprise came to the young lion when digging into this bag and discovering two palm-sized salves.

"Not everyone is your enemy, you have allies."

The words on the note attached to the salves raised Harry's spirit as he read the labels, Essence of Dittany and Murtlap. Harry turned the note to see more words, "Use Murtlap for burns and minor injuries and Dittany for major injuries and blood loss." The Gryffindor's first thoughts that maybe Madam Pomfrey had slipped the salve she used earlier into his bag. Harry's assumption was being proven wrong as the Mediwitch would have let him know and not just leave a note and remain anonymous. Leaving the only alternative that a student knowledgeable in healing or potions could've given the tonics. Putting the wandering thoughts aide did Harry apply a thin layer of Murtlap to the wounds. The wet moisture of medicine soaked away the pain as it presented a cooling sensation. The salve did not prevent Harry feeling the ache of recent injuries.

The young Potter didn't have any real encounters till several weeks later. A return visit from the Hogwarts Library on books about the uses of Dittany and its Healing Properties. Harry was familiar enough with the uses of Murtlap and its effects. Ironic as his original book was an introductory on Potion brewing for Beginners to help aid the Gryffindor in Snape's lessons. Most the seats in the library were littered by Ravenclaws at the square tables, glaring when the eleven-year old as much as looked at them. The task of finding an isolated table wasn't as difficult as Harry imagined. Hidden in the far back of the library was a single square, wooden table. The Potter heir remained uninterrupted for several hours until a lone Slytherin joined him . The Slytherin was a fellow first-year and unlike Malfoy, didn't go ranting about the superiority of Pure-Bloods.

Under normal circumstances Harry would be wary had any Slytherin approached him. The Gryffindor almost jumped out of his seat when words were spoken to him, "You're not bad at Potions. Snape just hates Gryffindors." Someone who Harry originally thoughts was his rival was sitting straight up with his arms crossed over the open book in front of him. For once Harry studied the first-year in front of him, olive-tanned skin with deep brown eyes to match his dark raven hair. The boy in front of the Gryffindor was slender as he held the posture of a traditional Pure-Blood, yet not condescending like Malfoy. The boy in front of Harry went by the name of Blaise Zabini, his eyes holding a curious glint. Blaise's reading material laid forgotten as he moved a seat to Harry's left. "Potions isn't as difficult as you make it, you're overthinking. Very dangerous since the art of brewing has to be precise. Make sure you know what you're reading, especially when dicing ingredients," Blaise explained as he took control over Harry's reading material. Flipping through chapters till it landed on 'different ways and definition of preparing ingredients.' Where some potions require juices instead of the entire ingredient.

Had Harry thought about how Blaise had handed him the books about healing, he would have been reminded of the note that the Slytherin quoted in the library. Hidden behind the cover of the library book was another note of parchment that Harry had yet to read. Only a few steps from the library did the Gryffindor notice a piece of parchment falling to the floor.

"Choose your friends wisely, Slytherins aren't as evil as you believe just like not all Gryffindors are loyal." Harry stared at the note for several moments as the warning message sunk in. It was obvious who was on the young Gryffindor's side where everyone else opposed him. Harry knew if Ron saw the warning note, the redhead would take it as an insult. With Ron's mindset that all Slytherins are Dark Wizards, he would assume Zabini was a replica of Malfoy. Had Harry not spent several hours with the first-year Slytherin, he'd be insulted as Blaise's blunt accusation. Not a second too soon after the book and advice were safe in his bag with protective spells nearly unbreakable by Flourish and Blotts was Harry attacked. The Gryffindor wasn't struck with Stupefy but a full body-bind.

"Not much of a wizard, is he? Oliver?"


	3. Am I Okay?

Harry couldn't move but the meaning behind Blaise's warning was hitting the full impact upon catching a glimpse of someone who always gave the boy encouragement. Oliver Wood's wand was being twirled between his fingers, eyes cold as if Harry was an irritating bug that begged to be killed.

"Muffliato," Wood whispered as sound was cut off around them after Harry was levitated to an empty classroom. The eleven-year-old wanted to yell, scream, or even stun his assailants in just an effort to do something. The young Gryffindor could only remain frozen in place as the freezing stone floor met his back; listening to the older Gryffindors conversing what to do with him.

"The Cutting Curse would teach him a lesson," Oliver said with malice on his thin lips. There were no protests about the curse until the beginning of the spell spilled from his lips. Harry's thoughts were solely focused on fighting against his body, wanting an escape from the events that were sure to come.

"Sectem -"

An interruption was made as Katie Bell shoved the wand down that had been intent at Harry's lone figure. Katie had a hand clasped over Oliver's mouth.

"Do you want to get expelled?! Professor Snape hates Gryffindor and would the opportunity to take it out on us!" She hissed. "Yet, he may let it slide. You know how much he loathes, saint-Potter," Katie spat his name like it was dirt. Wood took the Gryffindor chaser's word to heart, they needed to remain undetected and keep the blame focused on the Slytherins. After all dark spells like those leave behind a magic residue. A slender hand was extended with a wand of dark oak at the tiny Gryffindor.

"This ought to teach you a lesson, lets see how well you can walk after this," Katie Bell snarled. "Diffindo!" The spell was filled with power as tiny cuts slashed Harry's face, the main damage was concentrated solely on his legs and calfs. It was like a carving knife was running down past the knee-caps as they split him open. A scream would have rung out had a weaker body-bind been cast. These Gryffindors were no amateurs with magic, making them even more dangerous with your guard down. Harry could feel the oozing blood run down under his shredded trousers. The spell was cast again as Harry cried out without sound. The feeling was as if a knife was embedded into his right leg as the insides were torn apart. Later in the future will the young Potter look back with the thought of this is the work of Death Eaters, not followers of Albus Dumbledore and his secret organization. The pain in Harry's legs intensified as tears ran down the child's face. Not a drop of remorse could be found on the older students.

"Pathetic. He can't even stand a little pain," Katie commented with repulsion. Of course she knew that the eleven year boy was experiencing much more than a little pain. "I can just imagine what the Cruciatus Curse will do to him."

Harry was still conscious as his legs continued to burn like scolding fire. The young Gryffindor didn't even want to ponder a more devastating spell much less his current state. The young Gryffindor's body slowly shut down to a comatose state in an effort to rest. Nothing was stopping blood flow until magical aid had arrived. Harry's instinctual magic had little effects as the spell had traces of darkness blocking the protection magic.

The young heir's face had turned pale from blood loss when help finally came. Most would argue it was bad luck when Severus Snape found his limp form. Severus' first thought was that he caught Potter out of bed after hours and fallen asleep; the assumption shifted to worry as he hovered his wand over the tiny Gryffindor.

"A body-bind with a severing charm laced with dark magic," the Potions Master mumbled. "Finite Incantatem." Harry's body instantly relaxed with his mind away from his body's protest. Snape didn't dare to move or secure the Gryffindor's legs as he summoned a stretcher before concealing them both. Anything Snape had thought of the arrogant Potter had vanished, even he itself wouldn't want any harm to come to his students. This was the work of an older student and Severus knew it was no Slytherin. They respected the young boy at witnessing from one of their own defending him. Something that has never happened in centuries, a Slytherin vouching for a Gryffindor. Normally someone may have targeted or been pushed aside, except the one rule that all houses are required to follow: Never harm a first-year. The Slytherin student also gained attention for speaking up where he's been characterized as quiet and observant.

Imagine Severus' shock that Harry's treatment had been going on for several months, opposed to an once or twice treatment. The current circumstance for the Gryffindor had escalated to a breaking point. Due to being a Potions Master, Snape immediately recognized the faded burns on Harry's palms.

"Poppy, when did Mr. Potter receive those burns?" Snape gestured to Harry's hands as Pomfrey tilted a Blood Replenishing potion down his throat.

"Several weeks ago to a month," Pomfrey's voice was hoarse while assessing the damage of Harry's appendages. "Severus, he may have to go to St. Mungo's Spell Damage ward. There's only so many spells and potions I can use." Just the fact Madam Pomfrey mentioned St. Mungo's graved the seriousness of the situation to the young Professor. Madam Pomfrey was one of the best mediwitch's in Britain, but even her expertise couldn't surpass the healers at St. Mungo's The most the mediwitch could do was stabilize and heal the young Potter's left leg. Harry's right leg was in a critical condition and without treatment the consequences would become fatal. "There's too much internal damage to repair and healing can only go so far. We can inform the Headmaster and Minerva later." Pomfrey was almost talking to herself yet Severus heard every word.

"Mr. Potter needs a very special Floo Powder as Apparition's far too dangerous in his state," Poppy informed Severus as if he was Potter's head of house. Madam Pomfrey had a spot of fine royal blue powder by her mantel piece. It was used purposely to travel to Mungo's without going through fireplaces. Poppy did not dare to use regular Floo powder or a portkey. Harry's leg had yet to be properly assessed for full damage. If fate was on their side the Boy-Who-Lived would keep the full use of his lower extremities. The downside of healing was Harry losing all feeling and use of his right leg.

The starting process in Spell Damage at Mungo's could have been better. The first five to ten minutes did the healers stare at Harry's scar in awe. Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat with an angry glare. "You are healers, how dare you waste a moment's time to stare at someone who needs you aid! How dare you!" The mediwitch hissed. The healers had the nerve to look ashamed at their actions; they were known for their capabilities and fast reactions. It wasn't every day that you saw Harry Potter inside Mungo's. Soon it went all downhill once the healers found a core of dark magic in Harry's right leg. They took the diagnostics but refused to treat the eleven-year old. They were more focused that the Minister of Magic would panic if he heard anything concerning dark magic, than taking a risk and saving a fellow wizard or witch's life. Even at the very cost of their very savior as they were too scared with their own fear. It was obvious that Madam Pomfrey would return to Hogwarts with her young charge within not even half an hour. Poppy was usually a calm and well-tempered witch and it took everything in her to not curse the Healers.

Upon Poppy's return did she notice Severus' absence as the young Gryffindor was placed in a private ward. The witch's face grew paler with every word she read from the diagnostics from St. Mungo's on a piece of parchment. Pomfrey went to her fireplace to summon the Potions Master, if anyone could deal with Dark Curses, it was Severus Snape.


End file.
